


what's in a nickname?

by calclutterfuck



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calclutterfuck/pseuds/calclutterfuck
Summary: His dad looks at him, face stern, “Go talk to Coach and tell him that it was an enthusiastic practice and you gotta be checked out by medical.” Jason nods. “Then, go to medical.” Another nod. “Seggy and I,” he nods in Papa’s direction, lazily skating around with the rest of the team who look a little spooked, “we’ll come grab you after we finish up here.”Jason gives one more nod, a grunt that he hopes sounds like a ‘yes’, and skates off the ice as fast as possible.Way to go Charlie,he snipes internally, peeling out of his gear in the locker room,I time traveled into an NHL practice.-------Alternatively, the 'Jason Dickinson is Tyler and Jamie's son from the future who's time traveled back to meet them' AU.Yes, it is ridiculous.
Relationships: Jamie Benn & Jason Dickinson, Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin, Tyler Seguin & Jason Dickinson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 176





	what's in a nickname?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fraudulentzodiacs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraudulentzodiacs/gifts).



> The OFC is, of course, Charlotte, Jason's sister. She features pretty heavily throughout the fic, and therefore deserves a tag of her own.
> 
> This fic was inspired by a Tumblr ask, and therefore is dedicated to @bennsseguin on Tumblr. They graciously allowed me to write within this wonky AU and I'm absolutely in love with it. This fic really was just an excuse to write parental Jamie and Tyler without having a kid involved. I know absolutely nothing about Jason other than what was gleaned through his wikipedia page, so if his characterization is off (for a time traveling kid from the future) I apologize. 
> 
> This fic is also unbeta'd. Sorry, I wrote it in like 6 hours. 
> 
> Charlotte is five years older than Jason. The timeline for their birth and the Stanley cups is purposefully ambiguous. 
> 
> It shouldn't have to be said but Jason's career in this fic is obviously different than the real life events. Sorry, I had to adapt things for my magic involved time travel au.
> 
> There's a very high chance I would write within this universe again, making it a series. If you'd like that, please drop a kudos or a comment! I already have a lot of feelings about young Jason and Charlotte. 
> 
> Like everything else I write, if you see your name mentioned here, please click the back button.

When Jason was six, and Charlotte eleven, he’d stuffed her American Girl doll headfirst into the toilet and gotten it stuck. Although their dads had managed to pry poor Maya out of the toilet, she was, in effect, ruined. Charlotte, face tracked with drying tears, had looked at Jason, narrowed, her eyes, and spit out a harsh; “I _hate_ you.” She then proceeded to grab her ruined doll from their dumbfounded father and run to her room, slamming her door behind her.

Jason, still processing that his attempt at taking little Maya on a scuba adventure had been a failure, had burst into tears and collapsed on the tile floor of the bathroom, refusing to be consoled by their dads. Instead, he cried so hard that he vomited.

[It’s a story that Charlotte likes to tell at family functions, despite the fact everyone has heard it. Jason does not find it amusing.]

Two days later after the American Girl Disaster, they’re sitting in the living room watching Disney channel while their dads cooked dinner in the adjacent kitchen. Jason had sheepishly looked at Charlotte, who had pointedly ignored him for days unless their dads had been around, and tapped her on the shoulder lightly. “What Dickie?” She sighed, whipping her head around to look at him.

He’d wrapped both arms around her in a hug, mumbled an apology. Charlie groaned, trying to get his arms out from around her. “Dickie, c’mon, Dad and Papa had us apologise already.” He pulled away quickly, nodding and wiping one hand at his eyes, mumbling something soft. “Jason, I can’t hear you.”

Jason gave a big sniffle. “I just, I just wanted Maya to do scuba diving like we did!”

Charlotte had honked a laugh, goofy and loud, and grabbed at Jason to pull him into a hug, like she hadn’t just moments ago been fighting to escape his little-kid clutches. “Next time you have a smart idea like that,” Charlotte ordered him, “you come and tell me first.”

And so, Jason did. From the age of seven he had learned that if he had an idea, his best bet was to ask Charlotte or his dads before he acted on it. At fourteen, he asked Charlotte about maybe asking out Stephanie Miller, the cute girl in his English class. Charlotte had given him such good advice that it led to his first kiss. At eighteen, he asked his older sister if maybe he should skip college. Charlotte had cuffed him on the back of the head and told him that he’d better start applying to schools _just in case_.

That’s why, now, at age 24, Jason was looking at Charlotte with hopeful eyes and a big grin.

“What do you think?”

Charlotte took a sip of her coffee, slow and deliberate, and briefly looked at the ceiling, seemingly praying to some higher life form, before letting her gaze rest back on her little brother. “I think you’re fucking nuts.”

So, uh, maybe Charlotte wasn’t fully on board with the plan.

“I just need you to give me the reason for time traveling, Dickie,” she took another sip of her coffee, “if you can tell me _why_ you need to travel back in time, I’ll help you.”

 _ _“__ I wanna go back and see Papa and Dad before they had us! Before they became old and boring.” At his sister's unimpressed look, Jason continued, “I wanna see them when they still played hockey.” He pursed his lips, “How old were you when they won the cup that first time?”

Charlotte’s expression only changed slightly. “Six, Dickie, you know that.”

“I was barely a kid, Charlie,” Jason persists. “They retired when I was like four, I don’t have those memories. I want them.”

He can tell he’s won his sister over. It was a point of contention between the two growing up: Charlotte having those NHL memories of their parents while Jason’s earliest hockey memories are less NHL and more retirement based. “Fine, Dickie.” She grumbles, “But when something goes wrong, I’m _not_ traveling back to 2020 to save your ass.”

Jason lets out a crow of excitement, jumping off the sofa and sliding over the wood flooring in his socks. “Yes!”

Charlotte can’t hide her grin, although she does her best. “C’mon Dickie, be an adult.”

“Stop calling me Dickie,” Jason grumbles, a smile on his lips as he chastises her. “It’s a dumb little kid nickname.”

Charlotte huffs out a laugh, “Dad always calls you Dickie, says that eventually you’ll understand why.” She shrugs, “Have you?”

Jason frowns, “Have I what?”

Charlotte looks at him like he’s a little bit dumb, a familiar look unfortuantely. “Have you figured out why they call you Dickie?” At his lackluster response of a shrug, she takes a final sip of her coffee and places the empty mug in the kitchen sink. “Well, maybe you’ll figure it out in 2019. C’mon, we need to go shopping for supplies.”

He stands, quickly, and in his haste drops his own empty mug into the sink with a clatter, the handle falling off. “Uh,” He says, looking at her sheepishly. “I broke your mug.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. C’mon Dickie,” Charlotte says, herding him out to the car. “We’re going shopping.”

**\------**

They do two spells. The first is to prep the past timeline for his arrival. Fully grown twenty-four year olds don’t just spring out of the woodwork and join NHL teams. The witch that Charlotte’s brought him to, “a friend from college Dickie, don’t worry,” has cherry red hair and a permanent grin on her face. She assures Jason that when he arrives, his backstory will be set and he’ll have an ‘in’ with the team. All he needs to do is concentrate on sticking to it and not letting his secret slip.

Jason is peering into jars filled with all sorts of gunk, letting Charlotte and her friend chat while they do the spellwork, when he’s startled out of his nosing around by the witch asking him a question. “What do you want your name to be, darling?”

Jason whirls around, looks at his sister slightly dumbfounded, “Huh?”

Charlotte looks at him like he’s still that seven year old kid who stuffed the doll down the toilet. “You can’t show up in 2019 as Jason Benn-Seguin, dummy, you need a new name.” She picks up an errant herb, sniffs at it, then places it back down on the altar. “I vote Dickie. You already respond to it--”

He shakes his head no. “I’m _not_ going with my first name as Dickie. Like, maybe a last name--”

The witch interrupts their bickering, “Jason Dickinson it is.” Then, she tosses a hand full of colored powder at the candle. “It’s done.”

The second spell actually transports Jason to the year 2019 via a time portal. It’s a much more intense spell than the powder flying at a yankee-candle. It involves drawing some weird sigil on the wall in chalk, Jason drinking a foul smelling concoction, and Charlotte tossing a handful of feathers at him.

Jason is the one that has to set off the time portal; given a sentence of something that he doesn’t understand but is probably latin. To come back to his timeline, all he has to do is say it backwards. He looks at Charlotte warily, “I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to remember that.”

She hugs him tight, mumbling something about her dumbass little brother growing too tall to give proper hugs to. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll remember it.”

Jason takes a deep breath, thanks the witch, and says the latin the best he can. In a flash, he’s gone.

**\------**

To put it succinctly: traveling through a time portal kinda sucks. This exact point is punctuated by the fact that when he lands in 2019 that his head slams against something hard. He blacks out for a moment, and when he wakes up there’s a sea of victory green hovering over him.

“Hey Dickie,” one of the blurs says, his voice soft, “you okay? Or you need medical?”

Jason squints, the world still blurry, and tries to focus on the one guy that’s talking. Suddenly, his vision snaps into place and Jason can tell that the guy who talked, well, that’s _his dad_. Jason bolts upright, blinking, and the team scrambles to give him some space. “I’m okay.” Jason says, struggling to his skates. “I’m good, just, uh, forgot for a second where I was.”

His dad looks concerned, a wrinkle in his brow. “You forgot you were at practice?” His tone is incredulous. Suddenly, Jason’s papa skates forward. “Jay, he just got crushed into the boards. Give him a second, let’em bounce off practice early, and we’ll take the kid out for lunch later to celebrate his lack of concussion.”

His dad looks unconvinced, but Jason rushes to his own defence. “That sounds good. A plan. That’s it, that’s the plan.” It’s a little rambly, but it works.

His dad looks at him, face stern, “Go talk to Coach and tell him that it was an enthusiastic practice and you gotta be checked out by medical.” Jason nods. “Then, go to medical.” Another nod. “Seggy and I,” he nods in Papa’s direction, lazily skating around with the rest of the team who look a little spooked, “we’ll come grab you after we finish up here.”

Jason gives one more nod, a grunt that he hopes sounds like a ‘yes’, and skates off the ice as fast as possible. _Way to go Charlie_ , he snipes internally, peeling out of his gear in the locker room, _I time traveled into an NHL practice._

**\------**

Talking with Coach is the easy part, he waves off any problems and directs Jason to “get the hell down to medical, kid.” Finding his way to the coaches office, and then medical, are what really give Jason some problems. He’s never been all that great with directions, and the last time he really explored in depth at the Comerica Center or the American Airlines Center he was under the age of five, so uh, give him a break.

He eventually does find the way down to medical, and walks into the room with a knock on the partially open door. “Hello?” He asks, peering in.

A short man with glasses appears, seemingly out of the blue. “Hey, come on in.” He holds out a hand for Jason to shake, “I’m Trent, you’re one of the new guys right? The call up?”

Jason nods, assuming that the first spell crafted that in as part of his cover. “Yeah, I’m Jason, uh, Dickinson.” It sounds wrong to not say Benn-Seguin, but Jason’s going to have to get used to it.

“I bet you’ve had the hockey nickname Dickie with a last name like that,” Trent chuckles, directing him to climb up onto an exam table, “So, what brings you down to medical? I can’t see any bumps, bruises, or bones.”

“I got hit in practice, I, uh, had my head down.” He blushes, “Rookie mistake. I guess I’m nervous.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Trent takes it in stride and swiftly examines Jason. He follows the pen penlight, accurately answers questions about objects around the room, and touches his finger to his nose expertly. “I just blacked out for a second,” Jason reminds Trent, feeling a little absurd.

Trent finishes the exam, snaps off his latex gloves, and looks at Jason with a grin. “And that’s why you’re not showing any symptoms of a concussion. You can play in the game later,” He assures Jason. “But be careful.”

**\------**

The team is already of various stages of undress, packed into the locker room, when Jason walks back in through the doors. His entry is met with resounding cheers, although Jason isn’t sure why. “See?” His papa-- _Tyler, uh, Seggy_ , Jason reminds himself, crows to the room. “He’s just fine!”

This does not answer any of Jasons’ questions, and the confusion must show on his face. Jamie takes pity on him and drags Jason over by the arm. “Medical said you’re cleared, good to go, right kid?”

Jason stares, trying to remind himself that this is _not_ his dad. “I’m good.” Jason says, trying to convince himself. He rubs one hand on the back of his neck, “I think, I’m just, I think it’s hitting me.” He says, pasting a grin on his face, “I’m gonna be playing in the NHL tonight!”

The room around him hoots and hollers. A few teammates wander over and ruffle his hair, others choose to toss sage wisdom in his direction. Pavs-- _Joe Pavelski, Jason can’t believe it, the guy is an actual legend_ \-- reminds Jason to tie his skates with a wiry grin. Jason doesn’t exactly know what that means, because uh, duh, he’s going to be tying his skates, but nods and says thank you in appreciation.

**\------**

Going to lunch with his parents isn’t anything that Jason’s not used to. However, going to lunch with his parents prior to them actually being his parents, that’s something a little different.

They take Tyler’s jeep to the restaurant, Jamie sitting shotgun, and Jason cramming his six-foot-two body into a backseat that clearly is normally occupied by four-legged animals. He winds up sitting on a blanket that smells faintly of a dog, an empty metal bowl sitting by his feet, and Jason has to wonder if he’s in Marshall’s normal seat. “Do, uh, you have a dog?”Jason asks as they cruise down the highway. His dad’s have been chatting quietly, sometimes asking him questions but not forcefully tugging him into the conversation.

Tyler makes a right, curling around an exit ramp, as he answers. “Three of them actually.” He sounds elated that someone has asked about them. “They’re Marshall, Cash, and Gerry. I can show you pictures at the restaurant.”

“Oh man,” Jamie groans, twisting his body to look at Jason in the back. “I can’t believe you got him started. He’s gonna talk about the dogs all lunch.”

Jason starts to apologise, but Tyler waves him off as they pull into the parking lot. “Jamison Benn, I will talk about my dogs for as long as Jason wants to hear about them.” He puts the car in park, unsnaps his seatbelt, “After that, we’ve got team things to discuss.”

Jason unfolds himself from the confines of the jeep, tries to wipe off the sheet of dog fur he’s accumulated, and stares at the restaurant in shock. _Here?_ he thinks, standing open mouthed. Jason is startled from his musings by his papa’s arm looping over his shoulder. “Have you ever been here?” Papa-- _Tyler_ \--asks.

Jason shakes his head no, although that’s a lie. Eileen’s Cookery had been the background of every special occasion for much of Jason’s life. Jason could list off dozens; Charlotte winning the spelling bee in sixth grade, Jason’s ninth birthday party, their dad’s fifteenth wedding anniversary… He swallows, shaking himself from his stupor. “Uh, no, I haven’t. Is it any good?”

He sounds ridiculous in his own ears. Tyler pockets his keys, tugging in Jason tighter, “Eileen’s is an institution.”

Jason watches as Jamie rolls his eyes, “You’re an idiot. Leave the kid be.” Although the words are harsh, his voice sounds fond.

They walk in and seat themselves in a back corner booth, trying to remain low-key and enjoy a lunch without fan attention. Instantly, a smiling blonde appears at their table. She’s a few years older than Jason, closer to Jamie and Tyler’s age. “Howdy boys! You bought a friend.” She wiggles her fingers in a wave at Jason, “I’m Elouise, darlin’.”

“Hey Elouise,” Jason’s dad -- _Jamie_ Jason desperately reminds himself-- replies, “And yeah, this is Dickie. He’s playing his first game tonight.” The two chat mindlessly for a moment, Tyler popping in occasionally with a chirp. Jason stares at his menu, watches as Elouise chuckles at a lame joke from his dad and puts her hand on his leg in a way that makes him uncomfortable. _That’s too close._

“It’s Jason, not Dickie.” He interupts, feeling for all the world like he’s eight and his parents seemingly can’t hear him, bickering back and forth at each other. The smile on Elousie’s face sours for a moment, but seconds later she instantly turns perky again.

“Well Jason, Tyler, Jamie, what can I get you?” They put in their food order quickly, and she leaves just as fast.

The stares that he gets from his dad’s are matching. Tyler’s the one to speak up, “You okay dude?” He scratches mindlessly at his arm, “That was a little… harsh.”

Jason feels his ears turn pink. He can’t exactly explain that Elousie flirting with Jamie makes him uncomfortable because Jamie is his dad, and like kinda married to you, Tyler Seguin. So, he needs to make something up. “She reminds me of my ex-girlfriend.” A pause, “She cheated on me.”

The two nod, accepting his answer as passable. “Alright man,” Jamie says, “Just try to be nice, Elouise waits on us every time we’re here.”

“And like, this is kind of our place.” Tyler interjects.

Jason nods, feeling chastised. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll apologise to her when she brings over our food.”

Elouise returns with three plates of food and sets them down carefully. “Hey, Elousie,” Jason says, forcing her to turn and look at him. “I wanted to apologise for before, I didn’t mean…” He trails off. “Anyways, I was rude.”

Her smile returns full force, “As long as you’re truly sorry, darlin’, it’s nothing to worry about.” She looks at all three of them, “Enjoy your meals boys.”

Throughout the meal, Jason pauses between bites of his chicken wrap to insert comments about Tyler’s dogs. He’s been pulling up different pictures consistently, telling short stories about their everyday antics. There’s a few mixed in that Jason hasn’t heard before--like the one where Marshall and Cash got into the spice cabinet and Tyler came home to a house covered in cinnamon. Even Jamie chuckles at that story, shaking his head with a wide grin.

He’s trying not to choke via laughter on the last bite of his wrap, taking a sip of water, when Jamie interjects, serious. “Tyler, we’ve gotta talk about hockey now.”

The mood shifts, instantly serious. Jamie settles his eyes on Jason, and Jason can feel the captain like vibes right away. “You need to keep your head up tonight, kid. What happened in practice today… The Islanders are a very gritty team, heavy on defense and hits.” Jason nods. He remembers that, knows that they’ve had the same kind of play for years.

“Big bodies and big hits.” He interjects, “I’ve seen the tape.”

Tyler nods, “You get caught with your head down and you’re going to get a concussion. Boych,” he says the name with a smile, “will not go easy on you.”

The name rings a bell. “Boych…” Jason murmurs, trying to think back. “Johnny Boychuk. You won a cup with him.”

Jamie scowls, “Yeah.”

Tyler rolls his eyes, “I did. Boychuk hits hard, both opposing players and the puck. Watch out for his slapshot.”

They go like that for a few minutes, discussing what Islanders players in particular he needs to look out for. Ross Johnston, if he’s in the line up, is sneaky. He’s not just a goon. Clutterbuck, a guy who would bother a brick wall if he talked to it for long enough. The Captain, Anders Lee, another player with grit.

It reminds Jason of the night before the first day of school, sitting down at the dining room table. _If anyone gives you any problems, go to the teacher. If you’re really scared, see if someone can find Charlotte for you. If there’s an emergency, listen to the adults. Or see if they can call us._ He coughs once, interrupting the back and forth of advice from his dads. “I’m going to be fine. I’ve seen the tape, I’ve played in the A…” He looks at them with a grin, “The team has my back.”

**\------**

They’re on their way back to the rink, Jamie needs to pick up his truck, when a new topic is broached: Jason’s living situation. “They’ve got you staying at that Marriot, right Dickie?” Tyler asks.

Jason assumes so and runs with it. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

Tyler lets out a snort of laughter, “Dude, that place is gross. I know players that have legit found bed bugs. And one used-condom, in the bed.” He makes a fake vomit noise, and Jamie half-heartedly slugs him in the shoulder, a disgusted look on his face.

“Segs, that’s disgusting.”

“Uh, the kid should know that he’s staying in a shit-hole Jay. He’s gonna be up for a while--y’know that injury is gonna take a while to heal from--and he should look at finding permanent housing.”

“I’d, uh, like that.” Jason intejects. “Sleeping in hotels has never really been my thing.” He admits.

“See Jamison Benn, I told you.”

“Well,” Jamie says, twisting to look at Jason as they enter the parking garage, “You could stay with me if you wanted.”

“See Benny, look at you, doing the nice thing for the rookie.”

“Shut up Tyler.” Jamie quirks one eyebrow at Jason, who’s sitting dumbfounded in the backseat still. “Well, my apartment or the hotel with bed bugs. What’s it gonna be, kid?”

Jason scrambles to get the seatbelt off, hops out of the back with a grin. “Sure, thanks.”

**\------**

They grab his meager belongings from the Marriott, and head back to Jamie’s apartment. He’s given a quick tour of the place and given “what used to be my brother’s room, he’s in Montreal now” and damn, Jason forgot Uncle Jordie was still playing hockey during this time too.

Almost instantly after that, it’s time for the pre-game nap.

Jason falls asleep almost instantly, overwhelmed with the experience he’s had today. He’s time traveled, participated in an NHL practice, nearly been diagnosed with a concussion, met his dad’s before they were his dads, and later he’s going to be playing in his first NHL game. Wicked.

**\------**

Much like every other rookie in the NHL, Jason skates out for warm ups by himself. The rest of the team piles up in the hallway, chortles of laughter coming from the tunnel. One, two, three turns around, and suddenly he’s surrounded. Victory green is on the ice and there’s a large cheer as the team skates around, pucks suddenly on the ice. A boo rings around the stadium when the Islanders skate on, but Jason doesn’t focus on it. Rather, he’s stretching with the pretence of staring at his dads.

They’re doing their warm-up act. Skating lazily with each other, tossing chirps. Jamie jumps at Tyler, the two doing their best to practice checks. It quickly devolves into more chirps, Tyler taking a puck at shooting it at Bishop. Jamie does the same a second later.

Jason is startled from his staring by Hintz skating over and gently tapping him with a stick, “Fun to watch, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jason admits, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Hintz just grins, “Better to play.”

Not that Jason doubted Hintz, but he wants it on the record that _this_ , this is the best moment of his life.

There’s four other guys in victory green jerseys slamming into him, arms spread wide for a hug. Cheers have erupted around the arena, the goal horn has been bleating loudly, and Jason can feel the surge of happiness throughout his body.

“Whoo-hoo,” Tyler yells in his ear.

Jamie echoes it with a “Let’s fucking go, kid!”

When Jason skates down the bench, fist bumps from every teammate, he’s elated. At the end of the game, he’s handed his first NHL point, first NHL goal, puck with **v.s. Islanders 12/7/19** scrawled on it, he cheers and smiles at the social media lady who’s been trying to take a decent picture for the last ten minutes. “I’m sorry,” He tells her, but she ignores him and hussles down the hall.

Returning to the locker room, he’s immediately caught again. The celebration for their 3-1 win over the Islanders is toned down, but he’s still given more butt taps and hair ruffles than he expected.

“Good job, Dickie.” Jamie says, smiling at him. “Such a good job,” he continues, “that the team decided…” he tugs out a dirty and foul smelling cowboy hat from behind his back. “We’ve decided that you get the hat!”

Wearing that foul smelling hat, surrounded by equally foul smelling hockey players, Jason doesn’t understand why his dads ever gave up and retired from hockey.

**\------**

Jason plays nearly 20 games in the NHL before everything goes to shit. He’s been scratched a few times, gotten an injury or two that left him out of the game for a few days. However, he’s really embedding himself into the team and, as Coach likes to say, “making a goddamn impact Dickinson!”

The season, unfortunately, is put on hold for a global pandemic.

[Jason cannot believe he forgot about it. Growing up he’d heard the stories, read the newspaper articles, and watched the video clips. He even had to watch Charlotte give a presentation on it in middle school as part of an academic assembly. He can feel his sisters judgement although it’s years away: _What kind of an idiot forgets about a pandemic, Dickie?_ ]

On the opposite end of the spectrum, however, the pandemic could be a great thing for Jason. He and Jamie move into Tyler’s house St. Patrick’s Day Weekend, forgoing staying in their tiny apartment and settling into a space that’s more than spacious enough for three grown men and three energetic dogs.

The pandemic is going to be a great time for Jason, he’s sure of it, to have some one-on-one time with his parents.

**\------**

“I’m sick of seeing your face.” Tyler says, stumbling into the kitchen and blearily reaching down to pet at Gerry.

“We should go outside. The pool.” Jason interjects, trying to stop a fight before it’s even happened. “The pool sounds nice.” Maybe Jason shouldn’t have traveled back to pre-relationship for his dads. It’s obvious that the two are interested in each other, their relationship startlingly similar to what Jason knows, only separated by their actual lack of willingness to date each other.

“I’m in for the pool.” Jamie agrees and for one blessed moment, Jason thinks he’s solved their bickering. “Maybe I can drown Tyler in it.” And just like that, it’s gone.

“You’re in my house, Benn.” Tyler says acidly.

He looks to say more, but Jason cuts him off. “Please, guys. Like… I just wanna hang by the pool and maybe drink a few beers?”

That settles it. Jason drags out a cooler filled with corona--the leftovers of a joke that humor has long died in--and plants himself in the shallow end on a float. He surveys the situation: Marshall, laying on the first step into the pool, stares at Jason. Gerry and Cash are tussling in the grassy areas, Tyler roughhousing around with them in his bathing suit. Jamie is staring at Tyler, sipping on his beer, kicked back in a lounge chair.

The pool, unfortunately, does not solve all of their problems. It’s mid-April, hockey has stopped indefinitely, and the three of them have not seen other people for nearly a month, outside of a doordash driver and zoom calls. The tension has been building for weeks, but it’s nice to see a reprieve.

The snarky comments between Tyler and Jamie don’t stop, although they are interspersed with nicer, genuinely funny moments. The three of them have a diving competition consisting of two rounds. Tyler and Jamie declare Jason the winner, and dump a beer on him in mock-celebration. Jamie and Tyler have a grill-off, which Jason privately thinks is the most dads thing ever, but he doesn’t share that with them. They each force Jason to try a hot dog. Jason now knows why his dad is the only one who ever grilled for them as kids. They even do a shot-gun challenge for the cans of corona, which Jason fails miserably at.

Jason’s lounging on a chair post-dinner with a half-empty corona in his hand when Jamie suddenly taps him on the shoulder, soft. “Hey, Dickie.” He mumbles, and Jason forgets where he is for a second. For a moment he’s thirteen, just a little too old to be carried in from the car while sleeping, his Dad trying to rouse him.

“Dickie,” Jamie says, a little louder and a tad more impatient.

“I’m comin’, Dad.” Jason mutters, sits up and scrubs at his eyes with one hand. “What time’s’it?””

There’s a distant snort of laughter, and through blurry eyes he sees Jamie push at Tyler gently. “Don’t make fun of him dude, kid’s tired.” Jamie looks back to Jason, who's listing on the lounge a little drunk and sleepy still. “It’s late, Dickie, you might wanna head to the couch or your bed or something.”

Jason lets out a hum of agreement, slowly stands and shuffles his way to the couch. “I’m sleepin’ here, Dad.” He mumbles out, and much to the amusement of Tyler and Jamie he does instantly.

**\------**

Waking up the next morning is unpleasant. Jason awakes to hot breath in his face, the three dogs crowded around him, breathing heavily. “Ugh,” Jason moans, trying to curl in on himself and ignore his growing headache and the spinning in his stomach. “Dogs, stop,” Jason whines, pushing his face into the couch cushions and willing their adorable but lethal doggie faces to leave. Distantly, he hears the sliding doors open and quickly close.

“They’re gone.” Tyler says, laughter in his tone. “How you doin’ bud?”

Jason rolls over, sits up slowly, and looks at Tyler with obvious embarrassment. He’s sitting at the small breakfast table, coffee and danish nearby. He looks like something from a magazine or a movie trailer. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything dumb last night.”

Tyler huffs out a laugh, sips his coffee. [He looks startlingly like Charlotte doing this, so much so that part of Jason wants to hug him. He ignores the urge.] “You didn’t do anything kid, just passed out after eating dinner.”

Jason nods, sudden relief flashing over him. “That’s uh, good.” Jason does not want to have to explain anything future related to his parents. Like, they’re not even _together_ at this point. It’d be the worst.

Suddenly, the sliding door opens again. Jamie enters, drenched in sweat from a long run. Tyler carries on without commenting, drinking his coffee as he does. “Oh, I mean, you also called Jamie ‘Dad’ but that’s not that bad.”

Jason bolts from the couch, drops to his knees in the bathroom and vomits into the toilet.

**\------**

“I thought we weren’t going to tell him, Segs.”

“Benny, the kid shouldn’t be embarrassed. Everyone dumb things when they’re drunk.”

“He’s puking.”

“I don’t think he’s puking because I told him that he called you ‘Dad’, Benny, I think he’s puking because he drank the entire cooler of corona yesterday.”

Jason dry heaves into the toilet, distantly thinking back to Charlotte’s warning: _...when something goes wrong, I’m not traveling back to 2020 to save your ass._ He groans, flops back onto the tile and tries to ignore the younger, inexperienced versions of his parents standing over him in concern. “I miss my sister.” He says, trying to sniffle away the snot that always seems to come in tandem with vomit.

“Do you want us to call her?” Jamie asks. He motions to Tyler, “Go grab his phone. I think it’s in his room.”

Jason lets out a pitiful noise. “I can’t call her.”

“What about your mom?” Tyler questions, holding Jason’s phone. The only numbers in it belong to the team or random girls he’s met out at the bars. _Problems of time traveling…_

“I don’t have one.” Jason says, vehemently wishing he did. “And I can’t call my dads.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, both Jamie and Tyler flop onto the bathroom floor besides Jason. “We’re gonna sit with you then. Until you feel like moving off the tile.”

Tyler poke at him, lightly, “And maybe in the direction of the shower, kid, you stink.”

**\------**

It’s a week later when they talk about it again. The house carefully cleaned out of booze and, seemingly, the antagonistic behaviour between Tyler and Jamie. They’re playing video games, one of the vintage NHL playstation games that Jason has always been hopeless at. When Jason makes a comment about how he always failed at it growing up, how his sister was better, Jamie and Tyler look at him in confusion. “NHL19 is pretty new, dude.”

Jamie recovers quickly, “I meant 07. That was the version we had.” Jason has never even seen an NHL07 cover, considering he was _many_ negative years old when it came out. He hopes they don’t press for details.

They don’t.

When Jason has thoroughly proved that he’s a disaster at the game, they allow him to stop playing and simply watch the two of them play. They’re playing each other, his dad playing as Vancouver and his papa playing as Toronto. Edler scores a short-hand, video game pretty, and his dad cheers. Papa scowls at him, “You cheat!”

“Watch for the face off, loser.” Dad tosses back, winning as Tyler’s distracted.

“Hey,” Jason interjects, eyes on the screen deliberately. “Thanks for last week.”

Jamie pauses the game, Tyler’s little Marner figure on the screen mid-breakaway, and looks at Jason with his captain's face again. “No need to say thanks Dickie, just doing the right thing.” Tyler nods, dropping his controller and looking at him seriously.

“You’re kind of our responsibility, kid.”

Jason nods, feels a warmth grow in his stomach where last week there was only bile.

Jamie unpauses the game a moment later, Tyler’s controller still at his feet. Marner’s breakaway is interrupted by Grandlund laying a massive hit. “Dude!” Tyler yells, scrambling for his controller.

**\------**

A few days later, Jason wakes up in the middle of the night desperately in need of a drink. Typically he brings a glass of water to bed with him, but as he rolls over he finds the nightstand empty except for the alarm clock that shines in bright red at him; 3:38.

He crawls out from under the covers and tries to be quiet, not wanting to disturb his parents. However, he finds that he shouldn’t have worried. Jason sees light coming from the living room and hears the mutterings of a sheltered conversation.

“Jamie, we… I don’t know if we can do this.”

“Plenty of guys have, Ty. All we’d need to do is tell management, and then we could…”

“We could be happy.” Tyler whispers, his voice quiet but overwhelmingly loud in the silent house.

“You make me happy Tyler. These last few weeks, it’s been difficult. All I want is _you_ and…”

“Jamie,” Papa starts, cutting him off, “Jamie, it’s not realistic. I could be traded. There could be an injury.” There’s a pause. “We’re in Texas, Jay, some people may not like it if their franchise players decide to come out of a pandemic in a gay relationship.”

“Fuck them.” Dad says, voice calm and controlled. It’s the same voice Jason has heard all his life when his dad’s been confronted with bigotry. “I want to be with you.”

Jason sits in the hallway, criss-cross-apple-sauce in the shadows, trying to hide. This is obviously a private conversation, not one that his parents have ever relayed in a story. He can hear the sadness and want in their voices. Jason swallows, throat still dry, and coughs. The noise radiates throughout the silent house.

“Jason?” His dad’s ask in unison, and he knows he’s been caught. He stands and shuffles into the living room.

“I’m sorry. I was going to get water and then I heard you guys and I didn’t wanna evesdrop but it seemed private and…” He trails off. “I’m sorry.” It sounds lame.

Tyler and Jamie look at him, and Jason registers the fear in their eyes. His entire demeanour changes, developing rapidly from chastised into frantic. “Oh my god. You think, you think I’d out you?” He shakes his head, raises his hands in self defence, “Oh my god no. I’d never. I mean…” He trails off, eyes wide. “No.”

His Dads’ face is instantly relieved, but Papa’s stays guarded. Jason persists, “I mean it, I’ll swear on the Stanley Cup if you want.”

**\------**

Things do not go back to normal. It’s early May now, the commissioner of the NHL trying to figure out how to continue the regular season or head back to playing in the pandemic. Unfortunately, because Jason is from the future, he knows that this season is a lost season. Tyler and Jamie are continuing their new and uncertain relationship, however they instantly sink apart and peel away from each other when Jason enters a room.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Jason says on a lazy Sunday. He’s come back from a job around the block, walked into the kitchen to grab a gatorade, and his dads move to different ends of the sofa, trying to create a tangible space between each other. “I told you on the bathroom floor, I have two dads.” He takes a long sip, “And I already told you, I wouldn’t out you.”

**\------**

May 15th rolls around, and Jason stares at the computer screen as the NHL commissioner announces to the world, to the league, to the players, that unfortunately the 2019-2020 season cannot continue due to the pandemic. However, Bettmann announces with a smile on his face, they are working overtime to try and ensure that hockey returns on time for the 2020-2021 season.

He knows his dad’s have heard the news, all three of their cellphones ringing and lighting up with notifications as soon as the press conference has ended. They ignore them.

Later that night, Jason knocks on the door to the room that used to only be Tylers’ but can now be considered Tyler and Jamies’ room. “Yeah?”

“Uh, I need to talk to you.” Jason calls in, feeling small.

“Uhm, come on in, kid.” His Dad encourages him, only sounding slightly puzzled. Jason enters the room, not at all shocked to see Tyler playing some game on his phone while Jamie reads a hard-backed book next to him. He comes to the realization that maybe this would have been better done in the living room or kitchen, a neutral space. No NHL teammate, rookie or no, would invade a private space like this, like some little kid seeking comfort post-nightmare.

“So, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going.” Jason announces. “I’m going back home.” There’s a confused noise that squeaks out of his Papa, his Dad puts his book down on the nightstand and really studies him. Jason holds up one hand, silently asking them to stop and wait. “I need to go back home and see my sister, see my dads.” He takes a deep breath. “As alike as you guys are to my dads, you’re not them. All of the memories I have of them, they’re so in love and proud and willing to leave the sport that they love to share that love with a family.”

His parents look gobsmacked, sitting in bed listening to this. “I know that one day,” Jason starts, hears his voice shake, “one day you are going to be them. You’re going to win the Stanley cup and skate out onto the ice, Charlotte will be there. During your first cup day, Dad,” he focuses on Jamie, “Charlotte is going to eat ten of the cupcakes that are there for the celebration. She’s going to puke in the cup.” He swivels to Tyler, “Papa, you’re going to be so sad when I try and quit hockey when I’m nine. Just remember,” Jason insists, “remember that I only stop playing for about a week. I’ll go back to loving the game.”

“Dickie,” Jamie interrupts, and Jason chokes on a laugh. “You’re going to call me that _forever_. I’ve been Dickie since the day I was born, and nobody ever told me why.” He scrubs at the tears on his face, “Papa always just said I’d know eventually.” He looks at the two of them, still sitting in bed and watching him seemingly have a breakdown. “I guess I know now.”

**\------**

Jason doesn’t leave immediately. His dads manage to corral him into the kitchen with a cup of coffee to “calm down and discuss this.” After he’s managed to stop crying, wipe the tears from his face, they ask him to explain.

He does.

Jason tells them about shoving Charlotte’s poor American Girl into the toilet and ruining her, explains about asking for her help, sheepishly tells his dad’s how he got her to agree to his dumb stunt. “I just wanted to meet you before you were my dads. I’d never really seen you play.” He shrugs, sips at his coffee and wills himself not to cry again, “It seemed like a smart idea at the time.” He looks at the two of them wearily, “Do you believe me?”

“Dickie,” his Dad says, breaking the silence, “it’s too crazy of a story for anyone to make up.”

**\------**

Jason arrives back in his own time, skidding through the time portal, by slamming his funny bone into the wooden floor of his childhood home. Instantly, he hears three voices yelling. “Jason Benn-Seguin!”

Jason, curled on the wooden floor, smiles at his Papa’s voice. He’s instantly curled into a hug, parents and sister wrapping themselves around him. For a brief moment, he’s brought back to scoring his first NHL goal, thinking that it was going to be the greatest moment of joy in his life. _No,_ Jason decides, _this is._


End file.
